Part 43 (2/2)

'Not in any way that you could comprehend,' she said, not harshly but as a simple statement of fact. 'He knows.' She pointed at Scyla. The Spider, finding their attention on her, scowled.

'She's right,' Scyla said shortly. 'We'll know it. Her and me.'

'Well whatever,' said Kori. 'You sniff it out, and I'll get us in, and the Wasp here can watch the door. We have the place and the means.'

'Let's go, then,' Gaved said.

'Let's wait till dusk, shall we, so people don't see us housebreaking,' Kori suggested.

'There's a war on! Who's going to care?' the Wasp demanded.

'Night-time is always better,' Scyla said. 'In war they kill looters out of hand, in my experience, which is just what we'd look like.'

'Darkness is always best,' Eriphinea confirmed.

The Wasp threw up his hands. 'Nightfall it is,' he said. 'Always a.s.suming we can even get the thing out of the city.'

'Neither Ants nor Beetles fly, so they seldom watch for fliers,' Scyla reminded them. 'We got in. We can get out.'

'Unless what they say about Ant women is true,' Kori said.

'And what is that?' Phin asked him archly.

'That they can fly non-stop for a whole night the first time you knock them up.' The Fly grinned lewdly.

'And you believe that?'

'No, but I could have a lot of fun putting it to the test.' He rubbed his hands. 'And we've got a few pleasant hours to wait, a.s.suming the Vekken don't kill us. Anything to eat around here?'

'Are you sure this is the place?' Stenwold asked.

'Yes, yes,' Doctor Nicrephos insisted. 'You cannot understand, but I am driven drawn and I know not by what, but this is definitely the place.'

'Keep calm, Doctor,' Stenwold advised him, but Nicrephos was obviously anything but calm. Something had a hold of the old man, something that was now shaking him to his very bones.

There were four of them there loitering outside in the street and looking suspicious. Stenwold had brought Balkus, of course, and because he had gone home first to wash, because he could not bear the thought of Kymon's blood on him, Arianna had joined them and was here too. He was not sure whether she entirely understood what was going on here but, when Stenwold had left for this errand, she had been tagging along behind him.

He spared her a fond smile, and resisted the urge to reach for her hand. 'This is Master Briskall's place,' he said, belated recollection coming to him. 'I knew I recognized it. He used to be an archivist at the College, but there were questions as to where some of the exhibits were disappearing to . . .'

'We have to go in,' Nicrephos insisted. 'Please, Master Maker.'

'Are we expecting trouble here?' Balkus hefted the nail-bow. 'Want me to send Master Briskall a warning shot?'

'No!' Stenwold snapped. He did not understand why this whole venture felt like something criminal, but maybe Doctor Nicrephos's furtive manner was beginning to infect all of them. 'I am a Master of Collegium, therefore we'll knock.' He turned to say more to the Moth, but the grey-skinned old scholar was wringing his hands and silently baring his yellowed teeth.

'Well if you want to do things the hard way,' Balkus muttered, 'I'll get them out of bed.'

The big Ant went up to the reinforced door and his fist descended, a single booming thud that had the door already swinging open on its hinges. The others crowded forwards instinctively.

'Oh-' the big man said, and then swept back one arm, knocking all three of them, even Stenwold, off his feet. A second later there was a flash, and Balkus staggered back, tripped on Stenwold and sprawled out in the street.

'That was a Wasp sting!' Arianna cried out. Nicrephos was desperately trying to get up.

'Balkus?' Stenwold called in dismay.

The Ant sat up, a patch of his chainmail now fused together over his chest. 'b.a.s.t.a.r.d!' he shouted, and unslung his nailbow.

'They are trying to steal it!' Nicrephos shouted in alarm. 'We must stop them! Please, Stenwold!'

'All right!' Stenwold drew his sword, took a second to steel himself, and then flung himself in. The expected bolt sizzled past him and he hit the floor awkwardly, trying to roll away. A moment later the very floor seemed to shake as Balkus discharged his nailbow three times through the doorway, and then moved in to take cover behind a side-table whose exquisite vase he had just shattered. They were in an entrance hall with a door at the far end, and another in each of the long side walls. Stenwold saw movement ahead as the unknown Wasp drew back, and he took advantage of this. All of a sudden he was no longer tired, no longer the War Master, but just Stenwold Maker and free to make his own mistakes, with his own life as the only stake.

The Wasp, out of uniform in a long coat, reappeared with his hand spread, but Stenwold was already far too close and moving too fast for that to work. He had knocked the arm up before the man loosed his sting, and cannoned into him with enough force to send them both sprawling. Stenwold had the better of the collision and already had his sword stabbing down at his opponent. The Wasp twisted agilely out from under him so that the point of the descending blade chipped the floor tiles, but Stenwold managed a quick reverse and caught the man under the chin with his pommel as he tried to rise, sending the Wasp reeling backwards.

'Beware!' he heard Nicrephos croak. 'Someone here has power!'

Stenwold smacked the Wasp across the back of the head with his sword-hilt, sending him back to the ground, and then something snaked past him and caught about his throat. Its claw hooked sharply into his armpit, dragging him off balance.

A grapple! he realized, before seeing a stocky Fly-kinden across the room holding the other end of the rope he was just about to pull. Trying to brace himself, Stenwold got one hand on the rope about his neck, so that he was only pulled off his feet and not strangled with it. Then Balkus burst in with the others right behind him. he realized, before seeing a stocky Fly-kinden across the room holding the other end of the rope he was just about to pull. Trying to brace himself, Stenwold got one hand on the rope about his neck, so that he was only pulled off his feet and not strangled with it. Then Balkus burst in with the others right behind him.

The rope tightened, the barbed tines digging into him, and then the Fly had a shortsword drawn and was flying straight towards him, even as Stenwold choked and tried desperately to dislodge the hook. Balkus was . . .

Balkus was staring strangely, his nailbow hanging loose in his hands. Stenwold shouted at him for help, but his face had gone slack, utterly devoid of expression.

The Fly was abruptly crouching on top of him, his sword clutched in both hands like an outsized dagger. Stenwold groped for him, seeing only a careful concentration on the man's flat face. With one hand still on the entangling hook, Stenwold got his other hand on one of the Fly's wrists. For a moment the man was pus.h.i.+ng down against him, the tip of the sword descending until it touched Stenwold's chest.

There was a woman pointing at Balkus, a Moth woman. She was approaching him with a dagger in one hand, but her other was directed at him, so that the power of her Art held him immobile as she approached. She was speaking words that Stenwold could not hear and the big Ant just stared back at her with a glazed expression. In the Moth woman's hand the dagger's glistening blade was smeared with something black. She was smiling all the while.

With a supreme effort Stenwold halted the sword's further descent, locking his own arm and pus.h.i.+ng up against the smaller man's wrist whilst still hauling at the hook with his free hand. The Fly-kinden's teeth were bared in a snarl and he was remarkably strong for one of his small kind. Suddenly he grinned and simply took up the sword one-handed, leaving Stenwold clutching the useless wrist of an empty hand. Stenwold yanked at it furiously, putting the man off his stroke so that the sword just clipped his ear, but then the Fly's wings flashed out to steady him, and he drew the blade back for one final strike.

Arianna's knife flashed, and the Fly-kinden arched backwards, the weapon spinning from his hands. She struck again and again in fierce desperation as he screamed and bucked, knocking himself off Stenwold's chest. For a moment he was scrabbling about on the floor to retrieve his dropped sword, his back now a welter of red, and then finally she drove her blade into his side up to the hilt with a cry of revulsion.

Stenwold was aware of Doctor Nicrephos shouting something, and he felt a wave of cold surge through him that had every hair on his body standing on end. The Moth woman cursed in frustration, and lunged her dagger forwards just as Balkus snapped out of his trance. It was a hasty blow she delivered that skittered harmlessly from his mail, and in automatic response the nailbow boomed, sending her flying backwards with a b.l.o.o.d.y hole punched all the way through her.

'Stenwold!' the old Moth cried. 'Help me!' Stenwold staggered to his feet, looking around for the old man. For a brief moment he saw Doctor Nicrephos wrestling with a shadowy figure, and then a blade flashed and the Moth was reeling back, his robe bloodied. Stenwold had a brief glimpse of a Spider-kinden man no, a Spider-kinden woman? It was impossible in that moment to tell. He roared out a challenge, and Balkus shot another bolt at the same time, but the Spider dodged nimbly, running for the open door with something under his or her arm. As Stenwold charged, she it was definitely a she turned and flung something at him that struck him in the chest and instantly he was falling, tangled and stuck in strands of fine, sticky silk. A moment later, the Wasp-kinden man was running after the Spider, slipping through the door just before Balkus' nailbow destroyed the doorframe in three separate places.

Arianna crouched by him, her eyes wide. 'Who was that?' she gasped. 'What is going on?' Only Doctor Nicrephos knew that Only Doctor Nicrephos knew that, Stenwold thought painfully, for he could still see the old man from where he lay, and there was no doubt that the Moth was dead. As for who that was, though . . . surely it can't be . . . As for who that was, though . . . surely it can't be . . . It could It could not not be, he decided. It must be some other of the same order, for Achaeos had sworn that he had killed the face-s.h.i.+fting spy who had plagued them in h.e.l.leron. be, he decided. It must be some other of the same order, for Achaeos had sworn that he had killed the face-s.h.i.+fting spy who had plagued them in h.e.l.leron.

A spy in h.e.l.leron. A spy in Myna. Now a spy in Collegium. The coincidence was there already, so how much further for it to have all been the work of one man or one woman? And how difficult was it for a master of disguise to play dead? The coincidence was there already, so how much further for it to have all been the work of one man or one woman? And how difficult was it for a master of disguise to play dead?

Arianna was patiently disentangling him from the Art-made web, and after a moment Balkus joined them, slotting a fresh magazine into his nailbow.

'Any idea what they got away with?' he asked.

'None,' said Stenwold helplessly. 'And no understanding of this at all.' He took a good long time to recover his breath, leaning back against a wall of Briskall's entrance hall, staring mournfully at the body of Doctor Nicrephos, whose last desperate request had cost the old man his life and achieved nothing. Arianna crouched beside him protectively, her head on his shoulder. She had saved his life, he realized. He had hardly noted it in all the confusion, but the Fly-kinden would have had him if she had not stabbed the man first. Spiders played deep games, but he allowed himself to hope that this was it, this was all, and at last the womanly concern she presented to him was the Arianna that really was.

He was unspeakably grateful for her company at that bleak moment.

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